Uncharted
by L.Mae
Summary: Hermione Granger thought she had her life under control. But when she is forced befriend the one person she truly hates, everything falls apart. What happens when they're forced to help each other? Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: Nightmare

_A/N: Hey there! This is my first fan fiction and I'm a bit nervous about how it'll turn out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story and let me know what you think! :]_

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><p><em>It's your fucking nightmare. <em>

_-Avenged Sevenfold_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Nightmare<strong>

It had begun as a normal day, or as normal of a day as Hermione could have. She had gone to her job at the Ministry, as usual, but what awaited her there was not near as usual. Now that she was seated on her couch at her flat, with her feet resting on the table and a glass of wine in hand, she wondered how it had gotten out of control. With a sigh she replayed the days events in her mind.

Her job, while she was not away with Harry on Auror business, seemed simple. She was in charge of the vast library the Ministry owned. Surprisingly, quite a lot went into running it, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Not to mention she was able to take home however many books for however long.

The job, however, was mainly a cover. After fighting a war with her best friend and her boyfriend, she had realized something important about herself. She was a fighter. It wasn't that she wouldn't pick studying or reading over fighting, but she wasn't one to sit around and do nothing while there were problems out in the world—and they all knew there were plenty of them. Therefore, while the press sat around and wondered why she had picked tending a library rather than being an Auror, she simply smiled and said she preferred knowledge to fighting, which was not a complete lie. To Hermione, the pursuit of knowledge was still her passion. However, she didn't see anything wrong with fighting for good (as cliché as it sounded) as well.

So there she was, on her way to check in with Kingsley, in order to see if he needed her to go on any special business. As she reached his office and lifted herhand to knock, the door opened and a male with white-blonde hair raced out. Hermione's eyes widened in shock and she whirled around to see if she could catch sight of his face. As he rounded the corner to leave she saw a glimpse of the cold blue eyes.

"Come in Hermione," the grave voice brought her out of her shocked induced paralysis and she shook her head, trying to clear her mind that was racing in every direction.

"Hello, sir," she said upon entering, her manners at their best. Kingsley chuckled, a deep sound that shook his frame.

"Will you not call me Kinsley after all this time? After all we've been through?" He asked, beckoning for her to have a seat. Hermione blushed slightly and ducked her head. It was an ongoing battle with her and Kingsley to get her to call him by his first name. The man chuckled again and then sifted through a pile of papers on his desk. Hermione, in the meantime, glanced out the window, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Something on your mind, dear girl?" startled, she jumped and gave him a shaky grin.

"Not at all, sir. Anything for me?" she hastily changed the subject, anxious to get out and get to work—to escape that one nagging thought.

"Doesn't look like it, nothing for Harry, either. Do you mind if I send him your way?"

"Not at all. Good bye sir!" she hurried to the door but stopped before she walked out. Kingsley looked at her expectantly and she opened her mouth, closed it and opened it again, "I'm sorry, but was that Draco Malfoy that was in here before me?" the question was hesitant, she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Why yes, it was. I was setting up his schedule. He is a new employee after all," the Minister of Magic replied easily. Hermione's eyes widened and she felt a surge of anger and betrayal.

"Bu- why? How?" she sputtered before sighing, "I'll be going now," Kingsley didn't have much time to analyze the dejected voice before she was gone. The man shrugged and returned back to work.

A mixture of emotions ran through Hermione as she walked to the library—shock and anger being the most prominent. Betrayal was present as well. After all, Kingsley knew what Draco had done and what employing anyone with the Malfoy name entailed. In the Wizarding World the Malfoys were treated like dirt, hardly talked to, barely acknowledged and cursed. While it was true that quite a few times the degradation went almost too far, it was hard for people to get worked up about the abuse. An unwelcome feeling of pain and guilt hit her as she remembered one incident. It had involved a couple of youths and Lucius Malfoy being beaten badly enough to need an emergency visit to St. Mungo's.

Hermione herself hadn't taken part in it, but she had stood by and watched, secretly cheering. Now guilt took a painful stab at her. She squashed it down and made sure that it did not resurface under any circumstance. The Malfoys were a selfish, power hungry and cruel family, they deserved the treatment they got. Later Hermione would wonder what had brought about the uncharacteristically explosive anger at the Malfoys, but she chose not to question it right then.

Suddenly a tall, masculine figure appeared in her view and she jerked to a stop, almost colliding with her best friend.

"Sorry Harry! I didn't see you there!" she apologized, rubbing her face. Harry put a hand on her shoulder to steady her and smiled, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Yeah, you looked pretty intent on racing the floor there. It almost looked like you were winning," he laughed, grinning when she crossed her arms in annoyance.

"Well Mister Potter, it looks like you're under my jurisdiction today, so no snide behavior," she retorted, sticking her nose in the air in mock condescension.

"My apologies Your Majesty," he muttered, before walking into the library.

"Harry!" she cried indignantly. However, rather than chase after him, she stood in front of the library doors for a moment longer. The elegant design carved onthe door held her gaze while her mind traveled back to Draco. Again, the anger flared, memories struck her, bit by bit, causing her to clench her teeth against a scream of outrage. The torture, Bellatrix's insane laugh and all the events that had happened at Malfoy's house were things she had yet to come to peace with. Her eyes raked over the door almost desperately, trying to find some shred of comfort and familiarity with which to break away from her pain.

It was definitely not going to be an easy morning.

After a minute more of standing, Hermione strode towards the doors and threw them open. She reminded herself over and over that she was a woman of action, not one to dwell on past pain—that the days of torture were behind her, and the nightmares that haunted her constantly were nothing. She was alive and well and those memories had no influence over her life.

Boy, could she lie to herself.

"Orders for the day, ma'am?" one of her workers asked, speaking for all of his peers.

"Nothing special, carry on with the usual," she smiled at him, with all the poise and grace that she had learned through the years. Then when he went off, the smile slipped off her face and a look of weariness took over. She sighed and went to find Harry.

Things went fine until the two went out to grab lunch. For the past couple of hours, Hermione had noticed that Harry seemed more agitated than usual and quite a bit more distracted. When they got their food at a café nearby and sat down, it was even more obvious.

After several moments of watching Harry pick at his food, Hermione raised an eyebrow and he glanced at her with an apologetic expression.

"I guess I'm just a little, off today," he said lamely, in answer to her unspoken question.

"You expect me to believe that? Come on, Harry, tell me what it is," she coaxed, trying to be as comforting as she could.

"Nothing," he averted his eyes and tapped his fingers on the table in agitation.

Then, Hermione, being the brilliant witch she was, put two and five together, "You know about-"

"Yeah," he interrupted shortly, still avoiding eye contact. Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared, he knew something and wasn't telling her.

"What aren't you telling me, Harry James Potter?" his fidgeting became more prominent and he gulped loudly. Hermione was shocked, Harry Potter, the one who had killed Lord Voldemort, was afraid of telling her, his best friend, something.

"Harr-"

"I got him the job and I invited him to come eat lunch with us because he's not as bad as he seems and I've been talking to him for a few weeks now," he blurted out, his words stumbling over each other almost faster than Hermione could catch. The girl paled and gripped her fork so tightly the skin over her knuckles turned white.

"You what?" her screech sent birds flying and made everyone seated outside turn to look at her. Harry flinched and finally met her fiery gaze.

"I'm sorry!" there was a hesitation, a frightened look in his eyes that made a small hidden part of Hermione if she was really that terrifying.

"If you think that I will _ever_ be civilized with that barbaric son of a bitch, you are very wrong Potter! I will never deem him worthy of my attention!" she cried, not paying any attention to the direction in which Harry's eyes were flickering. She was far too gone in her anger, even calling Harry by his last name, something she only did when beyond furious. Her hands were shaking and her face took on a reddish hue.

Harry coughed and shifted uncomfortably then subtly pointed behind her.

"What?" she snapped before turning to glare at whoever was behind her. A moment later her mouth dropped open in shock and her eyes widened for the third time that day. Her stomach churned and the unsettling feeling of guilt returned to it.

"Nice to see you too, Granger," said Draco Malfoy, his ice blue eyes finding hers.

It was too much for her. It was like a waking nightmare, and one that was only the beginning of her day.


	2. Chapter 2: Hell

_A/N: Here's the second chapter.. Huzzah! I hope you guys like it. Sorry about the layout, I'm still trying to figure things out on this site.. So far somethings that I've been told to do just haven't been working..weird.. Anyway! Enjoy. _

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Hell<strong>

"Nice to see you too, Granger," the voice was smooth and icy, more mature than when she had last heard it, and far deeper as well. Though, while his voice had changed it, Hermione was willing to stake her life that nothing else had.

The minute it took for her to gather her bearings seemed like an eternity. However when she did, she stood up, eyes flashing, and opened her mouth to speak.

"Before you say anythi-" Draco put up his hand, the look on his face saying he wasn't happy to see her either.

Hermione cut him off anyway, "Listen, Malfoy. I have no idea what is going on between you and Potter, but know this. I will never _ever_ consider you anything more than an arrogant, evil, cruel bastard who would rather kill himself than do something good," she paused for a breath, and Harry took the chance to cut off the beginnings of her tirade.

"Hermione, I know what you're thinking but you have to listen to me," he had come up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes and jerked away from him.

"No! I will do no such thing!" and with that she grabbed her bag and stormed off. However, she hadn't gone far enough to miss what Draco said next.

"It's alright, Potter. I wasn't expecting much," Hermione could almost see the sneer on his face as he said it. She let out a sound of frustration and apparated back to the Ministry. Back in the safety of her library she sunk down in the seat at her desk and laid her head down on top of her arms.

She sat like that for a few minutes, listening to the faint sound of pages being turned and breathing in the smell of parchment. Combined the two things were relaxing for her and Hermione began to feel the anger ebb. It was hard to let go of it, though. Every time she thought something that had to do with Draco or Harry a wave of anger would hit her all over again. Then she would keep asking herself why he would do it, over and over until she got disgusted with herself. It was in her nature to overanalyze a situation until she figured it out, but with this particular dilemma she got nowhere. No matter how what reasons she came up with for Harry to give their enemy a job, none of them made sense. Even with the information that Harry had been talking with Draco for a few weeks already, a piece of information that stung Hermione. Although she understood why he kept it from her. He knew she would react much like she did not ten minutes ago.

But why hadn't Harry trusted her enough to give her some warning?

Of course, that was too easy to answer. She would have refused to see Draco at all costs and wouldn't have gone anywhere with Harry lest he try what he did that day.

Hermione let out a heavy sigh and wondered how life had gotten so complicated so fast.

"Ms. Granger?" the timid voice made her jump and she put a hand over her heart.

"Soran, you scared me!" she took a deep breath to steady herself then smiled at the obviously nervous man, "What is it?"

"I have a slight problem in one of the aisles and I was wondering if I could have your opinion on what to do," he asked, wringing his hands. She stood up and gestured to the door.

"Lead the way," her smile turned wry and she could only hope that it was a big enough problem to distract her from the Draco/Harry circle her mind seemed to be running in.

It turned out the problem was large enough to distract her not for one but two, seemingly short hours. Before she knew it, she was back in her office brooding over the fact that Draco Malfoy was going to be working within a fifteen-mile vicinity of her. Her head lowered itself to hover above her desk and she lightly hit it against the wood—once, twice, three times.

"That's not good for you, you know. Kills brain cells or something like that," Harry's voice interrupted her moment of sheer frustration and a small part of her felt relieved that she now had someone to take her anger out on. She glanced up at him with an icy glare that made him put his hands up.

"I'm getting a restraining order,"

"Hermione you can't d-"

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Harry! You bastard! How could you even think about doing that to me?" she stood up, her fists clenched and her shoulders shaking with barely suppressed fury.

"Hermione you have to listen to me! Give me a momen-"

"No Harry. That moment, that chance to explain everything that you're looking to explain came and went weeks ago! I deserved to know the day you happened to come in contact with him! How can you, of all people, expect me to just forget everything and be his friend as if nothing happened? _I was tortured in his house!_"

"Hermione, I know! I know what happened there!" Harry's temper was rising to meet her own and she felt all the angrier because of it.

"Then I guess I don't have to remind you that he is a malicious, temperamental asshole who only cares about himself and wouldn't care if you died a painful, horrible death? And that he'd enjoy watching it?" she was yelling now, thoroughly disgusted with Harry. Of all the people she knew and trusted, she thought that at least he would know how stupid it was to do something like he was doing, "You're letting him into our lives, knowing what he's capable of,"

"Hermione," he pleaded, "you've got to listen to me! Give me a chance to explain and you'll see!"

She dropped her head, when she spoke next her voice was significantly lower but it shook with contempt, "How could you? How could you let an evil traitor like him into our lives? How could you betray the trust of everyone who put their lives on the line for you? Including you're best friends? Your family, your friends, the whole Wizarding World for Christ's sake, trusts you not to let something bad happen. Yet here you are, letting evil into all of our lives. How could you?" Hermione walked forward until she was right in front of him, staring him down.

"Hermione, that's not fair," he said softly, although he knew he stood no chance.

"Get out of my office," it was a cold and Hermione knew she would regret treating him so harshly, but she couldn't bring herself to be nicer at the moment. He left without hesitation and she slammed the door behind him. She rested her head on the door after closing it and took deep breaths to calm herself down. How she wanted to go after him, apologize profusely and tell him she was wrong and she didn't mean it. But she couldn't, she knew she was right and he was wrong.

Even if she knew she was right, Hermione also knew that she would have to forgive Harry eventually, as soon as her pride would let her. It was only a matter of time, but in the meanwhile, she wasn't going to let it affect her work—too much. With that idea in mind she set about finishing up the rest of her day at the Ministry.

At five o'clock sharp, Hermione made her way out of the library with her bag and coat in hand. She hadn't seen Harry for the rest of the day and could feel a niggling of regret try to work it's way through her. It was quickly put down, however, and she almost left without noticing the heated whispers coming from somewhere to the right. After disappointedly realizing she couldn't understand a word, she walked towards the source.

Once she was close enough to recognize the voices, she stopped dead in her tracks. Draco and Harry—she should have known. Rather than stay and listen (as tempting as it was), Hermione decided to quickly and quietly make her way out of the Ministry. She chose to wait until she was a safe enough distance away before apparating to her flat.

That was how she, Hermione Granger, ended up sitting on her couch with her feet on the table, sipping a glass of red wine. For those who knew her well, it was quite a peculiar scene for Hermione. A small smile flitted across her face at the thought of someone seeing her in her present state. Just as quickly as the smile had come it was gone, her thoughts drifting back to Harry and Malfoy. She couldn't bear using his first name, even if only in her thoughts.

As her mind went around in circles for the second time that day, Hermione finished off the glass. Disgusted with herself for sitting around and doing nothing but thinking about conspiracy theories involving Malfoy and Harry, she decided to start cleaning.

Action, she was a woman of action—even if it was just cleaning.

Muttering obscenities about inaction, and two particular boys, she put her hair up, changed into comfortable clothes and set about cleaning her mostly clean house. Since she kept it clean mainly through magic, it was a pleasant change to do many of the actions herself. She swept, violently attacking any cobwebs she saw. She dusted, scrubbed and washed furiously trying to work out all of her anger. With all of her attention focused on cleaning, Hermione failed to hear the pop that announced someone in her flat. When she finally finished cleaning (having ended with her bedroom), she sighed and sat down on the bed pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

Then, due to the sudden silence resulting from her lack of cleaning, she heard the slight creak of someone moving in her living room. Hermione grabbed her wand and cautiously creeped towards the open doorway to her living room. Then she peered around the doorway and…

"Ron!" she cried in relief, dropping her wand arm. The red-head jumped and turned to her, his cheeks tinged pink.

"I'm so sorry 'Mione! I apparated inside and you didn't seem to be here so I decided to wait until you came home!" he rambled, his face turning pinker by the second.

Hermione laughed and walked over to him, "It's fine Ron, I was just cleaning and I didn't hear you come in, so I was cautious," he nodded in understanding. While the war was over, there were still Death Eaters and some habits were particularly hard to get over. He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. In the few years after the war, Ron had become the man that Hermione had always waited for him to be. He had become handsome, caring, quite a bit more capable.

"How was your day?" he asked, maneuvering them to the couch and sitting down, pulling her into his chest. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, trying to think of what to say to him. It was obvious Harry hadn't told Ron about Malfoy yet, or so she thought.

"Interesting, to say the least. Did Harry tell you about our new addition to the Ministry that just came in today?" Ron stiffened at the question and turned to look at her curiously.

"What are you talking about?" he asked cautiously, knowing that the grounds they were treading on were very fragile.

"Did you, or did you not, know about Draco Malfoy getting a job at the Ministry through Harry?" Hermione was getting more suspicious by the second and pulled out of Ron's arms to look at him directly. She was tensed and a steely look entered her eyes.

Ron gulped and looked away guiltily, "Well, he might have mentioned someth- but it's not what you think!" he put his hands up as if to ward away the anger he felt building up.

"You knew? You knew about it?" her voice starting out soft and dangerous and escalating into hysteria.

"Hermione, he told me about it about two weeks ago," Ron's voice was soft and he reached out as if to put a hand on her shoulder, but thought the better of it.

Hermione stared at him, shaking her head in disbelief. She should have known, in fact she did know. Somewhere deep inside of her rational mind, she knew that Ron had known. While he would have been furious at first, he wasn't the kind to hold a grudge for long if there was a good reason to give it up—a reason Hermione still couldn't fathom.

She sighed and her shoulders slumped as her head dropped. She was too exhausted to argue with Ron at that moment. A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearing nine in the evening.

"Hermione?" came Ron's tentative voice. She looked up at him and gave him a crooked smile.

"I'm too tired to deal with it anymore right now," the fire entered her eyes again as she paused, "but I'm not through with either of you," she continued, her voice edged with steel.

Ron sighed and stroked her hair gently, "I know," his voice was soft and his eyes carried a hint of worry.

Hermione blew out a breath of air through her lips and got up suddenly, "I'm going to go take a shower, then go to bed," she murmured, more to herself than Ron and walked to the bathroom. He watched her go and then apparated to Harry's flat, knowing that Hermione would want to be alone that night. In the bathroom, Hermione froze mid-way through taking off her clothes when she heard the loud pop. She exhaled the breath she didn't know she had held and mentally thanked Ron for knowing her so well. Once she was in the shower, she let the hot water relax her muscles as she tried to relax her mind. She was beginning to doubt that she would have a good night, especially due to the fact that she kept imagining different ways to kill Draco Malfoy—not something she usually thought of.

After her shower she put on her nightshirt and crawled under the covers of her queen-sized bed. The last image she saw before sleep overcame her was Malfoy's sneering face.

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><p><em>"Die, bitch!"<em> _Bellatrix Lestrange cried hysterically, the dagger in her hand coming nearer to Hermione's heart. Suddenly it changed course and went for her neck, slicing it open with one swift movement._

Hermione woke with a scream, shooting straight up and gasping for breath. She was covered in a cold sweat and the damp sheets meant she had been like that for a while. Seconds after she had screamed, Ron was in the room, wearing an apron and holding a spatula.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice heavy with concern. Hermione nodded shakily as tears began leaking from her eyes. Ron wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his body. She began shaking with sobs and clutched his shirt tightly. Her last nightmare had happened three months before and had left her much in the same condition. It was always the same nightmare as well, or at least it started off the same. Bellatrix was always torturing her and it generally ended with the sadistic woman about to kill her after having killed Ron and Harry.

Hermione shook as she continued to cry into Ron's shoulder. He rubbed circles on her back and held her close. She hated being this weak. She hated giving up her pride and her dignity and letting the nightmares and what had happened control her. She was a strong woman, not one that cowered every time she had to confront something bad. But the nightmares drained her. They left her without anything to hold on to. That day—days really—had stripped her of her mental strength that had taken months to rebuild. But there were still cracks, and the memories would eventually push through them with no mercy. She hated being that weak.

Gradually her sobs calmed down and she was able to finally take notice of Ron's striped apron. She laughed weakly and tugged at one of the strings. He looked down and chuckled, running his hand over the stripes.

"I borrowed it from Ginny, thought I'd make you breakfast," he said smiling at her brightly, "I was going to wake you up in a few minutes, but…" his voice trailed off awkwardly and his face flushed.

Hermione laughed again—in an attempt to lighten things up—with a bit more strength and said, "Thank you, Ronald," she paused for a moment to consider what she would say next. She knew apologizing would be the best thing, and so she took a deep breath before saying, "I'm sorry about last night."

"No, I'm the one that should be saying sorry. I knew and I didn't tell you. But Harry told me what happened yesterday and you have to give him a chance to explain,"

Hermione's eyes flashed with defiance, "But Ron! H-"

"Promise me, Hermione."

"No, I re-"

"Hermione, promise, or so help me I will make sure Kingsely doesn't give you any work for a month," Ron knew it would drive her crazy not to have any work at all for any period of time, let alone an entire month.

Hermione opened her mouth in disbelief and closed it, then opened it again as if to say something but instead sniffed the air.

"You burned something, Ronald," her voice was dry and she crossed her arms. He cursed and jumped up, half running to the kitchen. She couldn't help a tiny smile of amusement as she watched him.

"So help me Hermione!" he repeated from the kitchen.

"Fine! I'll do it!" she shouted, flinging the covers off of her body and walking towards her bathroom.

"Today!" he called back, causing her to stop.

"Ron!"

"Today, Hermione!" she let out a groan of frustration and walked into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She took her time getting ready for the morning, taking a shower and brushing her teeth slower than usual. She carried this over to picking out her outfit and when she was done, an hour later, finally made it to the breakfast table.

Ron gave her a sour look as she sat down and she shrugged in response. Hermione knew it was petty to make him wait that long when he was trying to do something nice for her, then again, revenge was exacted through petty means.

After a silent and awkward breakfast, Hermione apparated to the Ministry and hoped (prayed) the day would go a little better than the day before.

Of course, trying to be optimistic when Draco Malfoy was involved was very similar to trying to fight a dragon wandless—near impossible.


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